


Rule

by roseaerie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Ballroom Dancing, Best Friends, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Childhood Memories, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Fluff, King GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Knight, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Master & Servant, Mystery, Once and Future King, Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Romance, Secret Crush, Secret Identity, Secrets, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, castle - Freeform, protector/servant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28879050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseaerie/pseuds/roseaerie
Summary: In the Kingdom of Imperia, they are ruled by a cool and cruel King named Aldrich. This King has had a hard life, suffering at the hand of magic when he was just a child. As a result, he bans all magic from the kingdom, threatening death to those who remain to practice it. Aldrich shows no mercy to sorcerers, considering all of them to be his enemies.~Despite his father's cruel tendencies, George was still working to becoming a crowned Prince, and eventually, King. One night, an incident in the town places George right into the hands of a strong, yet gentle protector. With the help of his mysterious protector, George starts to learn that maybe there is a reason he was meant to be King.Light TW for blood
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	1. Cinnamon

The soft click of the window being opened stirs George from sleep. He feels the light breeze across his face, ruffling his hair. The distant cooing of the doves outside his window is swept in, along with the sweet scent of the peaches, riping in the sun. 

George sits up in bed, blinking a couple of times as his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight. He looks for his maid, taking in his room for what seemed like the umpteenth time. His large chambers looked the same as always. There was his desk in the corner, papers and study materials strewn across it from the late night before. A tapestry hung above, depicting some war. The standard chest of drawers, night table, large dining table, and wardrobe are scattered throughout the large room. The bed is a large four-poster, canopy above with curtains hanging down on the sides. George loved his bed, but he mostly loved how he could pull the curtains fully shut anytime he liked. 

"Elise?" George calls the name of his maid, moving to get up. He walks to the bathroom, looking to see if his bath had been drawn. Elise's shoes can be heard scampering behind him, and she stops as she realizes George is already out of bed.

"Up so soon, Sire? I brought you breakfast," Elise says to George, turning to her. 

"Would you mind bringing it to my table? That would be great," George says, selecting a sleeping cover to be put on over his nightclothes, as his chamber had gotten cold. Just behind the dining table, there was a grand fireplace. Elise coaxes the dying embers back to life, bitter cold morphing into a comforting warmth as George eats his breakfast. 

"So, Sire, you must be looking forward to the crowning ceremony tonight! That's got to be exciting! You'll be our very own Crowned Prince. I don't know about you, but I feel quite honored to be serving you!" Elise gushes.

George shakes his head. "Well Elise, you've been with me for so long! It feels like you've gone on this journey with me. And the crowning ceremony sounds a bit intimidating, not going to lie. What if father changes his mind? He's sorta known for that..." George trails off, nervously munching on his bread. 

"Oh, I'm sure everything will work according to plan. Your father had a restful night. I think that the medicine the physician has given him has really helped," Elise reports. "The entertainment will be amazing as well. The evening is under control, I promise. You can trust me."

Elise was head of the events that went on at the castle. She had always provided the most exquisite and interesting parties, making every other kingdom surrounding Imperia impossibly jealous.

George smiles, dismissing her so he could dress. He pulls on his usual blue tunic, black training pants, and boots. He glances at himself in the mirror, pulling on his sword belt, and glancing at where his crown would fall. It was weird to think that by this time tomorrow, he'd be incorporating a crown into his daily dressing. He pulls on his last touch- his favorite cape.

Today he wouldn't be doing his normal duties. No. 

Today he would be sneaking out.

~

George walks down the hall, boots clicking on the marble. He puls the hood of his cloak further to his head. He doesn't want to risk being spotted by one of the Knights or maids. George looks left and right at the end of the hall, slipping out one of the maid exits. He runs across the garden, bypassing the courtyard which is crawling with guards and slipping right into the crowd of citizens at the front of the castle. 

Today was the day people could consult with the King, and they lined by the thousands to get a chance to pitch ideas to him. George never understood why these people wanted so desperately to meet with his father. Aldrich was a cruel and power-hungry leader. George tried to keep him in check every chance he got, but it was very taxing on him. 

When his father had his occasional fits of rage, it was often George at the mercy of his punch, landing him with a black eye the morning after. Despite those instances, Aldrich really did try his best to be a just King. He banned practicing magic at the start of his reign, thinking it was what was going to make Imperia prosper. 

George knew there were people who still practiced magic. There had to be. The King himself probably wouldn't have cared, had it not been for what had happened to him when he was a child. You see, Aldrich was forced to take the throne at only fifteen years old. His family was wiped out by sorcerers, all trying to assume the throne instead of Aldrich. 

The Knights of Imperia soon realized what was happening, getting to the grand hall before the sorcerers could kill Aldrich, but not able to save his mom and dad. From that day on, he swore to eradicate magic from the kingdom. He had been fulfilling that duty since that day. He had no queen. He didn't think he needed one.

George always felt that his father may have been lonely. Sure, George was there for him and he was there for George -on the good days-, but still. George didn't even want to think about ruling, let alone ruling by himself. 

But where would he find a wife? That bit would be quite hard. True, George had no shortage of women. There were many who threw themselves at the feet of future King of Imperia, George Davidson. 

That wasn't the problem. 

They were just-. Not enough? Not right? George didn't know. 

He strolls past the old marketplace where the villagers made their trades and walks into the familiar bakery just across from it. He inhales the sweet aroma of the pastries and cakes, smiling. He glances around quickly, determining he was the only person in the bakery. 

He walks up to the baker, asking for a parcel of cinnabons. George absolutely loved the little circles of bread, cinnamon, and icing. Elise had gotten them for him for his birthday once, and George had fallen in love. He tried to make a trip out to the town to get them every once in a while, or when he had a particularly bad day. 

The baker smiles, handing over six cinnabons to her best customer, neatly wrapped in a parcel. George returns the gesture, handing her the money with just a little extra. She bows to him a final time, going back to her cleaning. 

Geroge starts on the walk home but is drawn toward a clearing in between buildings. He looks down the alley, seeing a beautiful forest behind the structures. He decides to walk through, chill riping through his body as a particularly icy gust of wind hits him. He pulls his cloak tighter around him, doing nothing to protect the wind.

He notices a place for a fire, wood already set out. He looks around for the townsperson that may have set this up, seeing none. He decides to sit on one of the logs being used as a chair, setting his parcel of cinnabons beside him. 

He extends his hand, glancing around a final time to make sure he is alone. 

"Forebay excantastias!" George feels a current rush through him, pupils glowing as he casts the familiar spell. The familiar scent of cinnamon fills the air as his current of magic flows through him. George had no idea why this happened, but he always smelled cinnamon as he casted. 

The warmth of the flames begins to envelop him. George rubs his hands together, scooting closer to the fire. George sighs, reflecting on his magic. His father could execute him if he saw George performing magic. George had known he possessed the special gift for around five years now, keeping it a secret since the day he mysteriously knocked a cup off his table without touching it. 

He didn't know who to tell. George had been sick at the time, resting in bed. Maybe he was hallucinating. The old physician who walked in to treat him was surprised when George asked about the cup, and the strange sensation that rushed through him. 

"You have magic my boy. How long have you known?" he asks, comforting George.

"Since today," George beings to cry, fearful of what his father would do.

"Needless to say, we can't tell your father. Luckily for you, I am a knowledgeable physician. I have books on spells and legends. I will help you. You can trust me, ok?" he whispers. "My name is Atal."

George smiled, still worried, but feeling slightly better.

Ever since that day, five years ago, George had been crafting his magic into something that he could control. He still had difficulty with the more complicated spells, but he had most of the easy ones down to a science.

George smiles, remembering Atal fondly. Atal had been incredibly understanding when George had first learned to spark a fire. George had almost burned down Atal's entire chambers and would have succeeded had it not been for Atal quickly casting a water spell. Atal had magic, but swore never to use it unless the situation was dire enough. 

Atal wouldn't have normally cast the water spell, but Aldrich would have certainly recognized the work of sorcery and ordered for Atal to be "disposed of" immediately. 

George unwraps his parcel of cinnabons, pulling apart the sticky buns. He chews one delicately, smiling in pure bliss as the slight punch of the cinnamon dances with the sweet cream of the frosting. He savored the taste of his first, moving through another much faster.

As he chewed, he thought of how misunderstood his job was. The townspeople always wished they could be where George was, but they just didn't understand how hard the job was. How... alone... George often felt. Anyone could feel envious of him, but they didn't know the full story.

They didn't know of the beatings George sometimes received. They didn't know of the sleepless nights in the cold cell, spent there because he wouldn't condemn a sorcerer to death. The days he had to stand and watch as innocent people were burned to death were his worst, a single tear trickling down his face for the family who had just lost a member.

Aldrich didn't take well to George feeling emotions toward the sorcerors and tended to beat him after the executions would take place. To Aldrich, the more he beat his son, the better he would behave. George remembers his father yelling at him in a heated debate.

"Sorry I have emotions father! I cannot and will not condemn an innocent person to death! They are practicing MAGIC. They aren't even using it for evil. Why can't you see that what you are doing is wrong?" George shouts in desperation.

"You, boy, will watch your tongue," the King speaks in a deadly low voice. "One day, you will be King, and you will have to do as I do. One day, you'll understand. Your silly little emotions have no place for the throne. If you cannot learn to control them, I'll find someone more suited for the weight of a crown. After all, I'm not so sure you are fit to be our King."

George gasps in surprise, blinking once. His father had never said that. Not even once. The stab of pain George felt had been worse than if his father would've stabbed him with his sword. Aldrich knew George was working harder than ever to be a good future King.

George pushes over a chair in anger, turning on his heel and slamming the door on his way out. 

George sighs as he is pulled back to the present. He stares into the crackling fire, wondering if he had what it took to be King after all. His next bite of cinnabon didn't taste as sweet as before. 

~

George is licking the last of the frosting off his fingers, about to leave his place of sanctuary. He saved three cinnabons for later, hoping to savor the sweetness when he didn't feel so bitter. 

"Fancy seeing someone else here," Someone says from the woods. George looks around, hand on his sword at his belt. 

"Why are you here? This is my spot?" George can hear the threatening undertones on the male's deep voice.

"Uhh- I'm... I'm sorry. I'll go," George says, gesturing over his shoulder. He turns to leave, but he feels a hand on his shoulder. Someone turns him around and before he can react, the person punches him in the stomach.

George doubles over in pain, clutching his wounded side. His hood falls, revealing his brown hair and his unforgettable face. 

The attacker smiles cruelly. "Well, well, well. The future Prince? You'll fetch quite a nice price...."

George puts his hand on his sword, knowing he wasn't going to be taken without a fight. The man reaches out for him, but stops suddenly, eyes widening. 

He drops to the ground, another man appearing behind him. He pulls his sword out of the attacker's body, wiping it clean of blood on the ground. 

George stands in shock, waiting for him to say something. 

The boy looks up, revealing his face. He brushes his dark blonde hair to the side, revealing bright emerald eyes. He has freckles too, dotting his face like little stars. He shakes his head in confusion, looking at George.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation? Get back to the castle!" he says without any hint of disrespect. He was treating George... normally...

"Do- what- uhh-" George stutters, not sure what to say. "You saved my life."

The taller boy stops cleaning his sword, shrugging his shoulders dismissively.

"So? You needed help. I did what anyone would've done." 

George shakes his head. "Well, your act of bravery will not go forgotten. Will you at least tell me your name?"

The boy seems to think for a little bit. "I'm Clay, but everyone calls me Dream."

George can see why... he blushes when Dream notices him staring at him, but George can't help it. There was no denying the attractiveness of this boy. 

"I'm- I'm George," George says, still not sure if Dream realizes he is talking to a future Prince.

The older boy wheezes once, going back to cleaning his sword. "I know." 

"Well, I- I better go," George gestures over his shoulder, backing away. 

Dream nods, finishing with his sword and stoking the fire. 

"And Dream?" George calls something in him warming as he is met with the sincere gaze of Dream. 

"Thank you."

Dream smiles genuinely, nodding. 

George turns, realizing this was the first person who didn't treat him like royalty. For the first time in his life, George felt like he was normal. Like he might have had... a friend. Like he might not have to be alone anymore. 

"Hey Dream, when can I see-" George turns, stopping when he realizes Dream is no longer there, taking the presence of the fire and a piece of George's heart with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Rule!  
> I plan on posting a new chapter every day, so if you liked the book make sure to subscribe so you get the notifs when I post a new chapter! 
> 
> Disclaimer: By no means is this fic real, obviously, but if any of the cc's are uncomfortable with this fic I will immediately take it down! If you decide to share my fic, it is more than ok! Make sure you credit me please! Fanart and all that jazz is ok as well! 
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading! make sure to leave a kudo and/or a comment if you would like! I love reading through them!


	2. Sunset

George arrives back at the castle just before sunset, slipping back in the maid's entrance. He is chuckling to himself at how easy it was for him to get in and out, when he hears someone clear their throat. George looks up, seeing Elise standing there with her hands on her hips. George winces. 

"Do I want to know?" Elise asks, pretending to be mad but letting a hint of her amusement shine through. 

"I met someone!" George gushes, handing off his cloak to her as they walk the empty halls back to his room to prepare for his crowning ceremony.

"Oh? Do tell! A woman?" Elise asks excitedly.

"His name is Dream," George says, cheeks turning slightly pink at the mention of the attractive taller boy. "He saved my life. I went to get some cinnabons, and this guy must've found me sitting there by myself. He realized I was a royal, and wanted to kidnap me for some debt or something. Dream was there to... dispose... of him."

"Ooooooh does somebody have a little bit of a crush?!" Elise asks excitedly.

They get to George's room, Elise holding the door for George as he casts her a dirty look, embarrassed about being called out. 

"That's ridiculous. I don't know why you'd say such a thing! Dream is... not my type," George huffs, pulling his tunic over his head and heading behind his wall to change. 

Elise smiles, knowing George well enough to not believe him.

~

George nervously toys with his shirt cuffs. His heavy ceremonial cape pulls him comfortably toward the ground, fighting gravity. He had caught a glimpse of himself in his full-length mirror when Elise had finished giving him his clothes. 

George wasn't vain, but he knew he looked good. He had on his chainmail underneath the blue knight's tunic for Imperia, since he would be taking over the Knights when he was crowned. The kingdom-wide insignia, the owl, stands proudly on his chest, representing the wisdom and diligence the kingdom strived to represent. 

George clutches the pendant hanging around his neck. He had gotten it as a gift from his mother when he was very young. She had left a note, telling him not to open the box until it was his time to rise to power as Prince. That was the last she gave to him before...

George sniffs, wiping away a lone tear with his leather-gloved hand. He couldn't be sad. Not today. He decides he needs to start listening to the booming voice of his father, coming through the doors of the throne room. 

"-trained since birth. Knights, please arise to welcome, George Davidson!" the King says, gesturing to the door. The two guards outside open the doors for George, who walks in, smiling and waving to his Knights. 

George had trained for this day for a long time. He walks down the aisle of Knights, smiling at them and shaking their hands. George had known the Knights for forever, often stopping by their training for a quick friendly spar. It meant a lot to George that the Knights approved of him as their leader.

George gets to the front of the room, seeing the pride shine in his father's eyes. George had never seen that before. His father claps him on the back, smiling at him. George returns the gesture to his father, kneeling in front of the Archbishop, the person who would crown him. 

George swears upon all the nessecary things, too excited to pay much attention. He had already practiced thousands of times, so he knew exactly what the Archbishop would say before he even said it.

"And finally, do you swear to uphold the best interest of the Kingdom and all its occupants?"

"I swear," George says, confidently, bowing his head.

"Then, with my power, I announce you, Imperia's Crowned Prince," the Archbishop says, placing the simple band of gold around George's head, signifying his title. 

George stands as the Knights bow deeply to him, then cheer. A smile flits across George's attempted diplomatic face. He's too excited to care. He had done it! Finally, all those beatings and lessons had actually paid off!

His eyes well up, but George only allows for one tear of joy. 

"Let the celebration continue!" the King booms, going off somewhere to interact with the people of the other kingdoms that had come.

Elise comes up to George, smiling and giving him a hug. She bows deeply. 

"My Lord," she says, looking up and smiling. "Now I get to call you my Lord. I like that."

George grabs her arm, shaking his head. "You don't have to bow to me Elise. For it is I that should be bowing to you."

She looks shocked, shaking her head vigorously.

"Oh no sire, you should never!" she says, offended, but George can tell that she secretly respected him more for the words. 

"Go have fun, Elise. I think I see one of the kitchen servants staring at you. He's cute! Go see if he will dance with you! Remember what I taught you!" George says, gently pushing her in the direction of the blushing kitchen servant. 

George smiles, remembering the night he and Elise spent in the grand ballroom, laughing as he remembers spinning her, almost knocking her over.

"Aaaand one, two, three, one, two, three... yeah there you go!" George exclaims, leading her around the ballroom in simple circles. She giggles, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she starts to move more gracefully into the movement. 

They waltz, picking up speed, as George leads her. When the music clicks to a stop, George nods approvingly.

"Fit for a queen!" he teases, bopping her on the nose. She laughs, giving him a massive hug, dropping formality. George tenses for a moment, not knowing what to do. He hadn't been hugged before...

It felt nice. He smiles, relaxing into her warm embrace. Elise was like a sister to him, and she always would be. Had it not been for them knowing each other for so long, George may have even loved her. 

George smiles pulling out of the memory to watch as Elise blushes as the kitchen boy leads her out to the dance floor. They spin, catching the eye of several dancers around them. Elise glances over her partner's shoulder, nervously looking to George for validation. George gives her a thumbs up, beaming with pride. She smiles, relaxing into the music.

George backs away, leaving the throne room for some air. He touches the gold band that is his crown, still in disbelief that he was a Prince now. No going back. 

He walks into the castle gardens, coming to his favorite willow tree. He sits against it, facing a small pond, as he swirls his finger in the water, reflecting the pinks and yellows of the beautiful sunset. He hears a great cheer from inside the castle, smiling to himself.

"All alone once more, my Prince?" 

George turns, surprised. Sure enough, the bright green eyes of his protector meet his. George smiles, getting up and walking toward Dream. 

"I didn't think I would see you again..." Dream trails off, hands twitching at his side as if he wanted to move them. 

"Me either..." George says, moving closer. He could reach out and touch the taller boy, sunset illuminating his pretty face in pink. 

Dream blushes, shaking his head and breaking the intense eye contact that left them both breathless. He clears his throat, backing away.

"I- I just followed you out here. Just to make sure you were ok. I can't have you getting kidnapped, now can I?" Dream asks, putting his tough-guy tone back on.

"Oh SURE Dream. It's not like I'm in a castle guarded by my very own Knights. Anyway, you should come in with me. Meet my father. He'd like to know the person that saved my life. And I think I have a proposition for you," George says, crossing his fingers under his cloak.

Dream seems to have an internal argument with himself, biting his lower lip.

"Ok," Dream says, hesitantly. 

George beams, excited to take Dream in as his guest. 

"Oh thank you Dream! It'll be so fun, I promise! You don't even have to hang out with me after you meet father! You can go off on your own if you wish! There are plenty of royal women here too!" George gushes, bouncing up and down on his toes. 

Dream nods, and George takes Dream's hand. The little zing of electricity that George feels makes his heart flutter. Dream's slightly rough hand fits into George's perfectly. George pulls Dream along, letting a small blush creep across his face. 

George drops his hand when they get into the throne room, checking to make sure Dream was still following. To his surprise, Dream was doing more than just following...

Dream bowed his head respectfully toward every royal he saw, even having the nerve to **wink** at one of the noble ladies which sent her and her friends into a giggling frenzy. 

"Oh my stars! Where was this respect when you met me?" George whispers to Dream, looking over his shoulder.

"I can wink at you if you want," Dream says, looking at George seriously.

"I'm- I- I'm just kidding," George stutters, thankfully reaching his father before Dream could make him blush any more than he already had. 

"My King," Dream bows deeply when George's father turns to see them.

"Ahh. Who do we have here?" Aldrich smiles, looking to George questionably.

"Sir, I would like you to meet the man that saved my life yes-" George winces as he realizes that he just revealed his sneaking out to the King. Thankfully, Aldrich doesn't seem to realize, too busy shaking Dream's hand. 

"Well you deserve the most honor. I cannot thank you enough for saving my son. He means a lot to me. We must reward you!" Aldrich suggests. 

"Oh no no sire. The pleasure was all mine!" Dream says, looking at George.

"No no, I insist. Are you looking for work?" Aldrich asks.

Dream nods. 

"Well then! You can be George's personal Knight. I'm sure you can work as a servant too, should you like." 

Dream smiles, nodding his head, much to George's surprise. George tells his father they will be right back, pulling Dream behind one of the fancy columns. 

"Dream you- you don't have to do that. I'm sure you-" Dream cuts George off, putting a gloved hand over his mouth. 

"George. I want to. I'm looking for work anyway. Might as well work for a royal!" Dream says, looking at George with his usual stern expression. 

George's eyes widen against Dream's gloved hand. He nods in understanding. 

Dream takes his hand off, rounding the column.

"Sire, I would love to work under George if the position is still available!" Dream says enthusiastically. 

The King beams. "So be it! You start work as soon as you can."

Dream smiles, bowing again. He goes back to George, being the one to grab the other's hand this time. Dream leads him back to the gardens, sitting on a bench near the pond. He sighs, looking out at the sunset. 

"It's funny you should bring me back here. I watch the sunset all the time. It sounds stupid, but I've never really... had any friends. Sometimes when I sit here, I think of the other people, under the same sun as I. Sometimes that helps to not make me feel so-" 

"Alone," Dream finishes for George. 

"Umm... yeah," George says, surprised. "But I'm sure you don't know what that's like. A person like you must have so many people to talk to. So many people that love you."

Dream laughs darkly. "No, quite the opposite I'm afraid. I'm not really a- people person. People don't like me, and I don't like them. That's the fact of the matter." Dream says, a grim look on his face.

"Well, for what it's worth, I like you!" George says, leaning down to pick some tiny blue flowers.

Dream laughs, shaking his head at the enthusiastic royal.

"You are like no royal I've ever imagined..." Dream trails off. 

After a couple of minutes of sitting in silence, George proudly examines his flower crown he had woven. He smiles, turning and placing it carefully on Dream's head. Dream beings to protest, raising his hands to the crown to take it off. George frowns, looking back at his hands, embarrassed he even made the stupid thing. Dream notices, frowning before he leaves the crown on his head.

George sneaks a look underneath his eyelashes. He sees Dream, sitting uncomfortably, but the crown of woven blue and white flowers remain on his head. 

George smiles. 

"Wow. Even with flowers, you look to be more a future King than I..." George trails off.

"George. I don't know what I need to do to convince you. I wouldn't be working under you if I didn't believe in you. You'll make a great King one day, and I'll be happy to be one of your subjects." Dream says, looking at George. 

George smiles, touched by his protector's rare sincerity. 

Maybe he didn't have to be so alone anymore...


	3. Harp

George and Dream sit on the bench side by side, watching the sun as it starts to disappear. One by one, the stars become more visible, little spots of light shining through an otherwise dark abyss. George smiles, admiring the freckles of light. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a golden tendril, sparking tail reflecting on the pond's surface.

"Dream look!" George says excitedly, pointing to the shooting star. "It's so beautiful!"

"Yes... it is..." Dream trails off in his deep voice.

George sneaks a glance at Dream, and finds that Dream was looking at him and not the sky. He blushes, ducking his head. When was the last time he had blushed this much?

It had to be because he hadn't had many friends, right? Yeah.

George just didn't get many compliments. He wasn't used to them was all! Plus, Dream was probably talking about the star. Of course he was... George was stupid to think Dream was talking about him. 

George realizes that in his sea of thoughts, he was still staring at Dream. He shakes his head once, clearing his mind, and looks down at his hands. As a gust of icy wind forces its claws down George's shirt. He shivers, pulling his cape tighter around him.

"Cold?" Dream asks, immediately noticing his master. George notices Dream's arm twitch out of the corner of his eye. Is he going to-? George holds his breath, stomach fluttering as Dream takes off his cloak, draping it over George's shoulders gently. 

George bites down hard on his lower lip, sure his face is turning even redder than it had all night. Dream doesn't seem to notice, sitting back on his elbows with a sigh of content. George lies all the way down, parallel to the sky. He puts his hands behind his head, wondering what it would be like to be up there. Free.

"Isn't it so weird that we are a tiny planet compared to some of these stars? It really puts stuff into perspective. No matter how big you think you are, something out there will always be bigger. Kinda peculiar to think about..." George says.

The water from the pond gently laps at the rocks surrounding it, breeze rustling the viny-leaves of the willow. A little tendril from the willow blows into George's face, tickling his nose. George giggles, brushing it away to see Dream watching him with the tiniest smile on his face. 

George rolls his neck, getting up. "I think we better head back into the party. My father will wonder of my whereabouts soon," George says, extending a hand to Dream to help him up. 

Dream doesn't take it, getting up on his own. It would've been informal had he accepted George's hand. Princes don't help up their servants. George had to remind himself of this...

Dream leads the way back into the castle, using his height to break the crowd for the shorter Prince. George smiles, nodding respectfully to everyone congratulating him on his crown. The symphony of the elegant music ends as one of the planners for the party gets up to announce something. 

"Clear the ballroom for the King and Prince!" a planner announces.

"It's a stupid waltz we have to do," George groans, turning to Dream to explain. "We have to choose a partner, obviously. I dread picking out a woman. They are all insane. They act like I'm a piece of glass or something..."

Dream smiles sympathetically, shooing George off to find his partner. George's eyes comb over the ladies, pasting on a false smile that sent them into a blushing frenzy. George smile grows to be genuine when he sees a little one, likely around seven or eight.

George had always wanted a little sister. He had always been an only child, and sometimes he just wanted someone to mess around with. He had always loved children, and how genuine they were. George strides through the crowd past the group of noblewomen, bowing to the tiny lady. She smiles cutely, curtseying back. George bends down to talk to her. 

"Well don't you look so pretty in your dress? Did you pick that out yourself?" George asks, smiling at the little girl.

"Yes I did! My mom helped me though," the little girl says shyly, intimidated by the Prince.

"What's your name?" George asks kindly.

"Amelia."

"Well, Miss Amelia, would you do me the honor of being my waltz partner?" George asks.

Amelia smiles, nodding her head eagerly. George takes her hand, pulling her to the center of the ballroom floor. The King sees George with the precious girl, smiling his approval. George grabs her hands as the court begins to play a waltz.

He spins her around, smiling at her giggles of joy. He quickly whispers to her a set of two simple waltz steps, and they waltz around the crowd, George hearing the ladies his age swooning at him acting like a big brother. 

When the music ends and the waltz is over, George bows again to Amelia. 

"Well, you're quite the impressive dancer, aren't you Amelia?" George asks, sweetly.

She looks down, shyly, twisting her hands as two people- George assumes her parents- come up behind her. The girl turns, jumping up and down as she talks about what a wonderful time she had. 

"Mommy I got to dance with the Prince!" she squeals excitedly.

"That's amazing honey! You guys looked great out there! Your father has something to show you over there! Go with him!" Her mom says, waiting until she leaves. She turns to George, curtseying. George dismisses the formality with a wave of his hand, giving her a warm smile.

"My Lord. Thank you so much for doing that. Amelia doesn't really... well she doesn't have very many friends. Her brother just died last year, and she hasn't smiled since. You don't understand how happy you've made her. Thanks for acting like her big brother," the mom smiles, tears in her eyes. "I haven't seen her that happy in... well who knows how long! I've missed her sweet smile and lit up eyes. You've brought that back. I thank you!"

"Oh ma'am it's absolutely my pleasure!" George turns to Amelia who had run back, hiding behind her mother's leg. He squats down so he's matching her height.

"You know, I've never had many friends. Maybe you'd like to come back to the castle and visit me sometime?" George asks, grinning when Amelia nods. "Wonderful! I look forward to it!"

The mom smiles once again, the family bowing to him before they disappear back into the crowd. 

He catches a glimpse of Dream, leaning against a column and talking to a rather pretty noblewoman. He feels something inside him, but he doesn't know what it is. He hadn't ever felt it before...

He frowns, turning to greet another royal family from a neighboring nation. As he talks to them, he can't help but let his mind wander. He thinks of what Dream is doing with that girl. He sneaks a glance over his shoulder. Dream is gone.

The noble family bows to George, presumably done talking. George bows back, distracted as he looks for his servant. He weaves in and out of guests, looking all around the castle. When he can't find Dream, he decides to give up. Maybe he left with her. 

George retrieves a drink from one of the servants, downing it in one swallow. He winces as the alcohol burns his throat. He sets the now empty glass down, leaning against the table on his elbow to watch the dancers out on the floor. He smiles at the grace and elegance of them all. Dance was something that was fascinating to George, and he would always enjoy watching it, however, he would love to be out there. 

He feels this... unexplainable feeling, a shiver running down his spine. It feels like someone is watching him. He tries to dismiss it, but when the feeling doesn't go away in a few minutes he beings to worry. He looks all around trying to spot the person to no avail. 

He forgets about him after a while, trying to enjoy the last hours of the party as the final ray of light disappears from the sky. Guests file out, bowing in a farewell to George and thanking him for the invitation. 

When the last of the party leaves, George sighs, exhausted, slumping against a column. The maids and servants immediately scurry into action, cleaning every surface. George trudges up the grand staircase connecting directly to the ballroom, walking down the halls to his room. He is preparing for his bath when he hears the door click open.

Elaine pops her head around the corner after she checked to make sure George was decent. George asks Elaine how her night went, and she tells him that she and the serving boy are going out as soon as she was done with her duties. George immediately dismisses her after she draws his bath, so she can go and hang out with her serving boy.

After George bathes, he flops into bed. He can't help but let his mind drift back to the whereabouts of Dream. He was supposed to report back to George by now. It was his new job, after all. George sighs, flipping his pillow over. He begins to worry, knowing Dream would at least give him the respect of returning at least briefly.

George mind races, keeping him from sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, George gives up on sleep. He goes to his desk, lighting a lantern and reading over some documents. He signs his name countless times, reading over thousands and thousands of words. 

When his eyes cannot focus on reading anymore, he decides to give up. He still isn't tired, so he decides to wander about the castle. He heads down the staircase, noticing the candles in the ballroom are still lit. George smiles, placing down his lantern. 

A young man, likely just starting on his career, sits in the corner with the musical instruments abandoned by the rest of the orchestra. He practices on his harp, plucking out a beautiful melody.

"What are you doing still awake?" George calls, friendly, to the player. 

"Oh, sire! I am just practicing. Please excuse me!" the player rushes to get up, but George stops him.

"Oh, no, no, not at all! I actually came down here and wanted to do a little bit of work on my waltz. Mind if you play something while I dance? You can remain practicing! I will adapt to what you play," George says, striding out to the center of the dance floor.

"It would be an honor, sire!" the player says eagerly, readying himself. 

George holds his arms up, pretending his partner is there, and when he hears the soft notes of the harp, begins to sway. He steps in time to the music, beginning to move more when the notes swell. 

_Front two three four, five six seven eight_ , George reminds himself, trying to keep time with the music. 

He dips his arms, following his steps in a circle. He travels to the edge of the dancefloor, beginning a large circle. He closes his eyes, familiarity of the steps relaxing him. He smiles, tipping his head back as he experiments with a few new turns and dips. 

He is turning himself around, eyes still closed, when someone takes his hand, pulling George into the next movements of the waltz. George gasps, frightened, eyes opening. 

"It's ok. It's just me," Dream says, calming George. 

George blinks a couple of times but doesn't protest as he allows Dream to take the lead of the waltz. 

"I know what you are thinking. I should have come back. I'm sorry. I had to deal with that woman. She wouldn't leave my side all night. I hate having to deal with desperate people. Not my type at all," Dream vents, heaving a sigh. "So I escorted her out. She knows that my heart is with another."

George blinks, confused. "Another? Who is this lucky woman who has charmed the ever so secretive Dream?" George jokes, inhaling quickly as Dream spins him out, then pulls him back in even closer.

"That," Dream says, a conflicted look flitting across his face. "Is complicated."

George hears the hard edge in his friend's -could he call Dream a friend?- voice. He decides to drop the subject for now, but he would certainly be pestering Dream for more information. George felt excited that Dream had someone to love but jealous at the same time.

"How can you waltz and think about so many things at the same time," George hears Dream asks, sounding genuine. 

"How do you know I'm thinking about things?" George asks, trying to dismiss being called out.

"You have this... faraway look. Sometimes it's a happy one, and sometimes it's much darker. I just wonder how you are such a good multitasker is all," Dream says, pulling George closer as the music begins to speed up again. 

"Well, being Prince has helped a lot. I'm always multitasking with something or other. My duties were already terrible, and now I'm officially Prince I can't even imagine how much work I have to do. As for thinking about stuff, I should be better at hiding that. I'll have to work on it..." George trails off, disappointed that his face wasn't as emotionless as he thought. 

Dream frowns, but doesn't comment. They spend the rest of the dance silent, and somehow the silence is louder than if they would've been talking. 

When the music fades to a close, they both bow to each other, George reluctant to let go of Dream. Dream steps closer, bringing up a hand to smooth a finger between George's eyebrows. George realizes he is furrowing them together, once again thinking. 

George looks down, shyly, apologizing. 

"What are you apologizing for?" Dream asks softly, cupping George's cheek. 

He realizes what he is doing, quickly moving his hand as George's face heats. 

"Uhh shall I escort you to your room, sire?" Dream asks, already walking back to George's room. Geroge trails behind, padding through the grand hallways illuminated by flickering candlelight. Dream opens the door for George, bowing once when George turns around.

"I bid you goodnight, sire. I'll be back in the morning," Dream says, smiling stiffly before closing the door with a soft click. 

George smiles, blowing out the candles around the room and sliding under his covers. He clutches a pillow to his chest, wishing it were something else, as he falls fast asleep.


	4. Sulfur

George jolts awake, senses heightened more than ever before. Something's not right.

He looks around, heart rate beginning to quicken. The familiar icy clutch of fear begins to claw its way into George, tunneling his vision. George gets out of his bed, squinting in the dark as he unsheaths his sword. 

He looks around his room, tapping into his magic to know if someone was within his presence. Feeling nothing, he steps out of the room, bare feet padding on the cold marble floors. He creeps down the hall, careful to control his breathing. 

He squeezes his eyes closed, calling on his magic. He focuses on opening his ears, listening for conversation. 

"-ow will we kill him?" someone whispers. 

"Do it now. We won't have another chance. One of the guards will discover us soon," someone else says, voice deeper than the first. 

George's eyes widen, trying desperately to locate where the voices came from. His magic flows, growing harder and harder to contain. George grips the wall, willing it to reach just ever so slightly farther. Sweat pours down his forehead, saltiness stinging his eyes. 

He gasps, suddenly getting that blip of where they were. He could see through the eyes of one of the people. They were standing over the King. 

George's eyes widen, as he turns and runs, throwing himself down the stairs and in the direction of his father. Luckily, there is nobody in the halls to get in his way. 

"Hystry Dieomous!" the lighter voice shouts as George gets to the outside of the King's chambers. George flings open the door with wordless magic, sword at the ready. 

He finds the male in which his magic allowed him to look through, stabbing him in the heart with his sword. He turns, ready to throw a fatal spell at the other. He casts, pupils glowing at his magic hits it's mark. 

He breathes a sigh of relief, collapsing into a chair beside his father's bed. His eyes roll back into his head as his body begins to shake, the smell of burning sulfur filling the air. 

He knew he shouldn't have stretched himself too far. George was having a burnout. When he overexerted himself, magically that is, he would have great difficulting moving and staying conscious. The biggest indicator was the smell- burning sulfur. He tries to fight, willing the lightheadedness to go away. 

George pushes himself off the chair, immediately fainting and slamming to the floor.

~

George wakes up in his chambers. He looks to the window, light pouring into his room. Outside, the hall is quiet, not a single sound interrupting George from his sleep. George squeezes his eyes shut from the immense pounding in his head. It felt like someone had split open his skull.

With a start, George realizes something that fills him with dread. The castle is quiet. It's never quiet in the day, much less completely silent. George pushes himself out of bed, crying in pain at the throbbing headache only getting worse. 

He stumbles to his chamber doors, opening them to see if the usual guards were at their posts. They were, standing at attention. They both briskly walk over to the Prince, taking his elbows as he struggles to stand. 

George leans heavily against them both, barely managing to stutter out a question of why it was so quiet. 

"Best for you to rest at the moment sire. You'll need all the strength you can get. I'll personally send for the physician to bring you a sleeping tonic," one of the guards says, leading George back to his bed. 

George doesn't even protest, flopping down on his bed. He wakes up for the potion, downing it in one swallow. After about thirty minutes, the throbbing in his head reduces to a dull ache and he is finally able to fall asleep. 

~

George wakes up feeling like a new man. He calls for Elise, noting her slightly less sunny mood. George means to ask her about it but doesn't have time. She doesn't speak, only getting his clothes for the day and leaving with a quick bow. 

George puts on his typical clothes, opting not to put on his crown. He didn't want to seem like he was better than anyone else, though he was proud of his role. 

He strolls out of his room, meeting Dream on the other side of the doors. 

"Sire," Dream bows, voice sounding grimmer than usual. "You must come. There is something you need to see."

George follows Dream to his father's chambers downstairs, noting the lack of people filing in and out. He walks in and immediately the pungent stench of metallic blood hits his nose, tearing his eyes with the harsh smell. 

Alarm fills him, and then he sees his father with a dagger sticking out of his chest. 

"No..." George mutters, disbelief evident in his voice. "He... he's not dead. I just- I saved him last night."

George laughs once, not believing his eyes. He feels a hand on his shoulder. 

George walks over to stand by the King, looking down at him. His bottom lip trembles as he realizes that what he is seeing is true. He didn't save his father like he thought he had. His one job- he failed-. 

"Oh- oh no. Oh father I'm sorry," George whispers. "I'm sorry." 

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," George screams, yelling as sobs shake his body. 

He shakes his father's arm, willing him to wake up. 

"Come on father. Who will run the kingdom? You must wake up. You must!" George screams hysterically. "PLEASE FATHER I CAN'T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU!"

Dream grabs his arm, pulling him away. 

"No! I need him. Please no!" George yells, tears running down his face as the collectors come to prepare his father for burial. 

"Father!" George yells as his father's bed-chamber doors shut with a click, ominously bringing closed the end of an era. 

Dream lets go of George's arm, and he immediately slides down the wall, sobbing. What will he do? He hasn't been trained to run an entire nation by himself! George panics, not able to catch his breath. He sucks in short, shallow breaths in an attempt to lower his heart rate. Dream stands helplessly off to the side, not sure how to comfort the weeping Prince. 

Dream remembers when he once had a father, but that was long ago. Dream felt no pang of sorrow like he felt when he had first lost him. Over time, the unbearable pain became a dull loss, then just nothing. He didn't care. He couldn't afford to care. He didn't have time to care.

Dream had spent his whole life running. Running from his hunters. Running from debt. Running from responsibilities. But, most of all, Dream ran from his emotions. He had never considered himself to be a people person, especially not now. He pushed people away. That is what he was good at. 

Still, he stands here helplessly, knowing he was pushing George away too. He sighs, walking over to sit on the floor with George. He hesitantly reaches out, patting the shoulder of the young Prince. 

George immediately crumples into Dream, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing tightly. George doesn't care who it was that just sat next to him. He needed comfort. He needed someone to tell him it was going to be ok. But for now, just getting to hug Dream was enough. 

They sit there, still, for a while. George nuzzles closer to Dream, and the blonde never stops him. George sighs, bottom lip still trembling, but his crying had stopped. It was as if he had cried all he could. He couldn't even cry now if he wanted to. He mainly felt numb, still not fully understanding the weight of what had happened.

He tips his head back, knocking it against the wall in despair. Sometimes it seemed like the world was out to get him. One of the Knights burst into the hall.

"Sire. I'm terribly sorry, but we have a problem..."

~

George stands on one of the bridges that connect the towers of the castle. He inhales deeply. In the distance, the specks of a fighting army form over the hill. 

"What do we do sire?" the Knight asks George. George squares his shoulders, clearing his throat. With as much authority as he can muster, he speaks. 

"We must defend Imperia. Ready the Knights, and get them into formation just outside the castle walls. We have maybe an hour before they reach us. Send Knights out to inform the people. We will shelter them within the walls of the castle. Despite our outer kingdom's weaknesses, the walls of the castle will be hard to breach. Report back to me when we have our subjects."

The Knight nods, hurrying off. George walls down the bridge, giving the three-fingered swirl that indicated lighting the warning fires, as well as sounding the alarm. The Knight responsible hurries into action, George rubbing his eyes as the loud gonging begins. 

Already, his subjects begin to flood into the castle. George goes back inside to inform the staff that they would all be treating the wounded, as well as caring for the citizens. Dream appears at George's side, silent as he follows, preparing for the attack. 

As the time ticks away, so do George's nerves. He had trained for this. Imperia would not fall today. He would make sure of it, or he would die trying. 

"Sir. It's done. Our scouts report five minutes before they reach us," the Knight from before states. 

George draws his sword, Dream checking one last time to ensure George's armor was secured. George turns back to Dream one last time.

"You are to stay here. Help with the wounded and make sure they are cared for," George orders, silencing Dream's protests by holding up his finger. "I know you want to fight, but not now."

"Sire. It is not your time to die..." Dream trails off, desperate to be granted permission to protect his master. 

"If I die, I will die with honor. I have to protect my kingdom, now more than ever. These people need a leader, and I'm all they've got. I- You've been a good servant. I truly felt as if we were friends. Thank you," George smiles sadly, turning to follow his Knights into battle. 

George takes a deep breath, twirling his sword. Just outside the castle walls, George stops with his thousands of Knights. They look to him, question in their eyes as they wait for orders. George remembers he is now leading them... what a strange feeling. 

"Listen up," George commands confidently. "If you die, you die fighting for Imperia. You have done great service, and you all must focus on fighting for something. Find that spot of light that makes your life worth living, and don't let go of it. For Imperia!" George yells, thrusting his sword into the air. 

"FOR IMPERIA!" the Knights roar, following their future King. 

George turns, now hearing the war cries of their enemy. He pulls on his helmet, getting into fighting formation. It was time. Now or never.

May the sun rise on this kingdom again...

~

Inside the castle walls, Dream braces himself as an explosion goes off outside the castle walls. He grimaces, hoping George wasn't among the few that were dead. Dream hadn't been any help inside. Sure, he had bandaged lots of people, but he kept getting distracted. 

Luckily a very pretty woman named Elise came up behind him, finishing the bandaging whenever Dream would drift off into space. Elise was nice and impossibly beautiful. Her golden blonde hair fell over her shoulder, curls framing her face. 

Dream peers out one of the windows, looking to see if George was among the injured Knights being carted in. 

There is an even louder explosion, rumbling and cracking some of the walls in the castle. Suddenly, something roars overhead. Could it be? Ice fills Dream's body as he hears the familiar roar of rage. A dragon.

Dream drops the bandages he's holding, bolting out the door much to the protest of the other Knights. Dream weaves in between burning stakes, flames licking at his heels. He hears the leathery wings of the dragon overhead, running faster to try and get to the Knights to protect them. 

This dragon- well this dragon could kill them all with one firey breath. Just like that. The shadow of the massive beast passes over him, on the way to the circle of Knights fighting against the enemy side. 

Dream runs up to the Knights, calling for his master. 

"Dream? What are you doing here? Get back inside! It's too dangerous!" George yells, shoving Dream back in the direction of the castle. "You can't help!"

If only George knew...

Dream had magic. Always had. He had spent his entire life working with it, weaving the delicate threads of knowledge in his head. He knew he wouldn't be going back to the castle. 

Long ago, what is known as a "Seer" told Dream of his destiny. Dream was to serve a noble, and return peace and prosperity to his nation. Quite the pressure...

Dream's destiny was based solely on protecting George, no matter the cost. Dream didn't mind. He would lay his life down for the future King without question. 

Dream backs away from the Knights, running behind the castle. Dream runs into the forest, hopefully out of earshot of the other Knights. 

He roars into the sky, dragon language a bit rusty, but still coming out of his mouth, rough with emotion. The dragon immediately stops his destruction, headed toward Dream. It bows before him.

"Why do you disturb me of my work?" the dragon roars. Dream understands the dragon's words, for he was a Dragon Lord. It had taken him the longest out of anything for him to learn. Dragons were great magical creatures, and extremely smart. They were forced to obey the call of the Dragon Lord, however. 

"I know you wouldn't dare disrupt my destiny!" Dream roars back. "George cannot die today. I must keep him alive. I need you to leave Imperia."

The dragon laughs coldly, folding it's wings as if it were bored. "If it is an order, very well. I hope you don't regret that decision."

"Wait," Dream calls, dragon turning it's head back. "I need you to help me eradicate the enemy. We've got too many sick. Please. I have to keep George safe. He'll fight until he is dead, and that cannot happen. You must want magic to return to the kingdom, correct?" Dream asks, beginning to grow desperate.

The dragon seems to think for a moment, amber eyes staring into the distance. 

"I will help you, young magi. I hope you do not regret this. I can see you are very loyal to the future King."

Dream nods.

"Then for you, I will help," the dragon roars, leaping up into the air to take flight.

Dream runs back to the square where the Knights are becoming more and more outnumbered. 

"Fall back!" Dream hears George yelling hoarsely, blood dripping down the side of his head. 

"George? Are you ok?" Dream asks, running to his noble's side.

"I'm- I'm fine," George dismisses Dream with a shaky hand, blinking hard and rubbing the sweat out of his eyes. "Help the injured." 

Dream sighs, putting his arm around an injured Knight to help him back. 

High above his head, the dragon lets out a window shattering roar, turning his rage on the enemy. He shoots fire, burning them all with renewed vigor. The Knights make quick work of their enemy with the dragon on their side. When the battlefield is cleared, the dragon flies off, looking for another place to burn. 

George stumbles back into the medical room, lightheaded from losing so much blood. He flops onto a bed, eyelids fluttering as he threatens to fall asleep forever. Dream runs over, already bandaging George.

"Here. To make you feel better," Dream hands George a potion.

George smiles gratefully, dowing the contents. He falls asleep quickly. When he wakes up, he will be completely fine.

Dream looks around, none of the medical staff or victims around to listen. 

"Forthay entrita," Dream whispers extending a hand over George's head. The magic allows the familiar blush to return to George's cheeks, returning his blood. Dream lets out a sigh of relief, moving to busy himself with someone else.

It wasn't George's time to die.


End file.
